Precious One
by JadedFire
Summary: God saves a little girl from her mother's abuse.


**Precious One**

by _JadedFire _

Eyes filled with all eternity and the power of holiness gazed with intentness upon the scene taking place on green earth below. Righteous anger filled a holy heart, a hand straying to the hilt of a golden sword. Every breath was calm, measured. He knew how to handle the situation.

_The girl. Help her. I will work through you, My Child._

He didn't speak in his servant's head but made a spiritual impression on the man. He watched as the man walked over to the young girl and the woman abusing her.

_Lord, what can I do?_ The man was upset by the sight before him. As could be understood, due to the fact the woman was screaming obscenities at the child, threatening her, then pummeling her with fists. One would feel sorry for the girl and forget the woman, but the Lord knew the woman suffered from extreme depression and drug abuse.

She was a lost soul who needed His free gift of salvation as everyone else did. And yet, He was displeased by what she was doing to her own child. Displeased at the disgusting stench of sin within her heart like a black poison sucking at the goodness of life—heart an eternal abyss of emptiness. An emptiness only _He_ could fill.

God would stop her from harming her child. He had watched her from heaven, knowing exactly when to make His perfect move. He had seen the child, Amelia Rose, turn from playful, rambunctious, and talkative child to becoming a silent, stricken, shell from the serious abuse laid upon her from her own flesh and blood mother.

_I will be with you, _He said. _I am all around you._

It was true. Jesus Christ really _was_ everywhere all at once due to the fact he moved so fast through the earth at one-millionth the speed of light, therefore literally being everywhere at once. He only seemed to stay in one place because mankind boggled their puny brains down with questions like, "How on earth could God be everywhere at once?" or "How could God have always existed? Everything has a beginning!"

Hmmm. In algebraic equations a certain line had no beginning and no end, and yet He never heard someone saying, "That's impossible! Prove it!" For some reason, a mere line was more plausible than _He_ was.

"Mama, stop!" the little girl cried out, struggling in her mother's hawk-like grasp on her shirt, her little legs kicking wildly.

Would her mother ever stop? Why was her mother so mad at her?

_Was it something I said? Was it something I did?_

"Hey, you! Stop!"

A man? Who was he?

Questions cascaded into a young mind.

Her mother stopped pounding her; the little girl sobbed in relief, hugging her legs up to her chest to protect herself, hazel eyes stairing from under mud infested auburn bangs at the man striding toward them from the top of the hill.

She looked up at her mother, dismayed to see the feverish, crazed glint in her obsidian eyes appear again. The woman turned her head down to glare jagged daggers at her daughter.

"Brat," she hissed, "you knew someone would come so you kept hollering."

Amelia knew her mother had been the one screaming at her. _She_ was the one who had caught the man's attention.

The mother stood up on her legs to greet the man.

"I'm so sorry," she said, taking on the appearance as though nothing had happened. She could have been a first-rate actress, but the skill was to deceive rather than entertainment. She brushed the dirt off her pink shirt and blue jeans, looking as though it was merely a tumble.

"I'm calling the police, woman. For child abuse," the man said.

The woman laughed gaily, but her eyes were empty pits of depravity within her sockets.

"You're joking."

"No. I'm serious. I have a cell phone on me," the man said, taking a black object from his pocket, clicking it on with a chittering electronic beep.

The woman's eyes widened in shock and dismay, knowing she would be imprisoned for her actions. With a leap she was suddenly up and running, dashing through the grass like a gazelle galloping top speed to escape the fate of being a wolfs dinner.

Overhead a dove spiraled in the air, milk colored wings flapping at its sides as it flew above her head.

_Fall…_

Someone was watching her…

Distracted by looking at the dove, her left foot got stuck in a rabbit hole in the ground, making her fall to her feet. But not only did she fall, but she twisted her ankle, making it impossible to break out into yet another run from the possibilities of being arrested.

Amelia stood up wearily on her feet, looking up at the same dove that had flown around her mother. She watched it shrink from the size of a penny to the size of a dust mite. And as it left her young eyes caught the shadowy, surreal glimpse of a white, slender hand upon the hilt of a sword, a scar in the center of it almost obscured by the folds of white garments.

Her mouth hung open in astonishment, suddenly forgetting the pain caused by her aggressive parent. That hand—it came from something so noble, so grand that it would be impossible for mankind to write a full novel of the owner of it.

So beautiful. So elegant. And yet, so majestic. Like a king's hand. But why was it scarred? How had it become scarred?

She became saddened in her young mind that the hand had been marred, wondering with the naivety and innocence of youth if she could fix it somehow.

"What's your name?" someone said from beside her, breaking through her serious thoughts.

She blinked to find that the hand had left, to be replaced by the normal sight of the blue sky, fluffy white clouds with unbersides reflecting the warm, golden sunshine.

Her shyness returned. Fear entered her young heart. What would happen to her now that Mother was going to be in prison? What about her Mother?

_I will take care of you, little one. Do not be afraid._

Relief filled her, quenching doubts and fears, and she drank in the welcoming presence, the welcoming impressions on her soul.

"Amelia Rose," she introduced herself.

"I want you to know that everything is going to be much better for you from now on."

Somehow, the little girl believed the man with all her heart, her mind reflecting on the sight she had scene moments earlier.

Yes. Things would indeed be much better.

I-I-I-I-I

Years later…

Amelia Rose, age ninety-two, lay on the medical bed, hospital staff all around her. Each breath she took was laboured, yet no fear filled her heart. She knew where she was headed after leaving this walk of life. The gates of heaven would be open for her, and her heavenly Father would greet her with a divine embrace.

Though her life had indeed become easier after the crisis with her mother had abated, she had gone through her fill of trials and tribulations. She was ready to go home now.

Daily things had been becoming more and more shadowy, the Scripture in residing in her heart, and the memory of the nail-scarred hand becoming more real with each moment.

All life was but shadows now next to the glory she would be in. And yet, all the wonders of heaven and all the beautiful sights didn't matter next to the fact that she would see _Him_, her eternal Saviour of her soul. It wouldn't be heaven without Him.

Memories of people she had witnessed to, and the joy on their faces as they had accepted Christ as their Lord and Savior filled her head. Everything was so much more memorable nowadays, as though it had happened in but a blink of an eye instead of within the timeframe of a few months to several decades.

Peace washed over her, and her physical eyes closed shut forever, her soul leaving its earthly husk to enter a land where the sun never stopped shining, and where her Savior recided for ever in, to rule and have dominion over all.

She was truly happy, now.

**The End**


End file.
